On November 4, 2025, New York City, one of the world’s most diverse and influential metropolises, elected Zohran Mamdani as its new mayor. In a moment that blended politics, pop culture, and global resonance, Mamdani’s victory set off a chain reaction far beyond the city’s borders—reaching from the streets of Queens to the group chats of Bangalore, the timelines of Auckland, and the living rooms of London. His win, while rooted in the city’s urgent need for affordability and accessibility, has come to symbolize a seismic shift in the way political power, identity, and narrative are contested in the twenty-first century.
According to In These Times, Mamdani’s victory marks a dramatic change in the political landscape for advocates of Palestinian rights. Just two years ago, candidates with a consistent record of supporting Palestine faced near-certain political exile in American politics. Yet, after two years of relentless atrocities committed by the Israeli government in Gaza and mounting international pressure, Israel’s grip on the political narrative—long reinforced by powerful lobbying groups—has begun to slip. The American electorate, weary of the formidable influence of the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) and its allies, has started to push back.
Indeed, the 2024 election cycle saw AIPAC spend staggering sums: $8.5 million to try to oust Rep. Cori Bush, more than $14 million targeting Rep. Jamaal Bowman, and nearly $4 million in an unsuccessful bid to unseat Rep. Summer Lee. Yet, as In These Times reports, the narrative is shifting. Centrist Democratic Rep. Seth Moulton recently returned donations to AIPAC, while California Governor Gavin Newsom became visibly uncomfortable when questioned about the group. AIPAC, sensing the changing winds, has urged donors to contribute directly to candidates and even launched an AI-generated ad campaign to rebrand itself as acting in America’s national interest. Despite these efforts, the organization’s brand has become, as the article puts it, “toxic.”
Against this backdrop, Mamdani—a Muslim candidate who faced relentless smears over his stance on Palestine—secured his seat as mayor of the largest city in the country. His win, while not solely attributable to his foreign policy views, signals a broader transformation. The electorate’s fatigue with old lobbies and narratives has made space for new voices and new visions. Even within the Republican base, the U.S.’s long-standing allegiance to Israel is now being questioned, with recent polling showing that half of Republicans aged 18 to 49 hold an unfavorable view of Israel.
Yet, the Israeli government is hardly sitting idle. In response to its waning narrative dominance, it has dramatically increased its hasbara (public relations) budget to 20 times its pre-October 2023 level. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has personally met with U.S. social media influencers at the Israeli Consulate in New York, part of a broader strategy to shape global perceptions. The government has also struck a $45 million deal with Google and YouTube and a $6 million partnership with a right-wing content company to push pro-Israel content tailored to Gen Z, alongside a $4 million digital ad campaign targeting U.S. Christians. These moves, as reported by In These Times, reflect a government scrambling to contain reputational fallout after years of international censure and plummeting approval ratings.
But Mamdani’s campaign was more than just a referendum on foreign policy or lobbying power. According to the Asia Media Centre, his victory video—featuring the early-2000s Bollywood anthem “Dhoom Machaale”—became an instant viral sensation, especially among Indian youth worldwide. The song, which translates as “create a storm,” was more than a catchy tune; it was a cultural bridge, a spark of collective emotional memory that resonated with millennials and GenZ across the diaspora. For many, it was surreal to see a favorite Bollywood track become the soundtrack to a New York City mayoral win.
Mamdani’s campaign was a masterclass in relatability and cultural fluency. His social media presence, described as playful, cinematic, and unfiltered, lit up Instagram and TikTok, sparking the global “That’s My Mayor” trend. He communicated in English, Hindi, Urdu, and Bengali, making his message accessible to a vast array of communities. His background—son of acclaimed filmmaker Mira Nair and scholar Mahmood Mamdani, and husband to Syrian-American artist Rama Duwaji—gave him a natural ease in crossing cultural and linguistic boundaries. As one Bangalore-based supporter put it, “His campaigning style is something Indian leaders should be taking notes from: alive, culturally textured, and instantly relatable.”
It wasn’t just style, though. Mamdani’s policy platform tackled the real pressures of everyday life with proposals for rent freezes funded by taxing the wealthy, universal childcare, and free buses—policies designed with empathy and equity at their core. For young people in New York, New Zealand, and beyond, these ideas offered hope that civic engagement could lead to tangible change. As another supporter in London noted, Mamdani’s approach made complex issues accessible through entertainment and humility. “He explained ranking and the process clearly, and I realized how little I actually knew. Not once did he boast about himself. Instead, he said, ‘If you choose me, I’ll do something great with and for you.’”
The viral nature of Mamdani’s campaign—bolstered by memes, Bollywood references, and multilingual outreach—demonstrated how politics now spreads through emotion, humor, and cultural cues rather than staid speeches or manifestos. This week, a meme of President Donald Trump looking at Mamdani with “heart eyes” and even stepping in to answer a tough press question on his behalf swept across timelines from New Delhi to Toronto, further cementing Mamdani’s status as both a political and cultural phenomenon.
His campaign’s authenticity, warmth, and openness drew comparisons to leaders like Jacinda Ardern, whose empathetic style resonated with young voters across oceans. Mamdani’s victory, then, is not just about the shifting sands of U.S. foreign policy or the decline of once-untouchable lobbies. It’s about the rise of leaders who are as comfortable referencing classic Bollywood as they are advocating for rent control—leaders who make politics feel human, inclusive, and worth paying attention to.
As the midterm election cycle approaches, the political terrain is more open than it has been in decades. The question is no longer just who holds the money, but who holds principle, empathy, and the ability to connect. Mamdani’s win is another sign that the old rules are being rewritten—and that the movement for a more inclusive, relatable, and principled politics has just begun to gather steam.
